Black Magic was born from the underground,

wandering the darkness, lost in the moon light.

A gypsy soul, an enigma, a beautiful mystery

She was here, then she was gone before the rising of the sun.

A daydreamer, a mystic –

there are no labels to define her wild spirit.

She prances through the night

and blooms in the twilight of dawn.

Enclosed in each lash box lies a trinket of wisdom

which she’s gathered along her journeys –

fastened with a seal, awaiting reveal.

A relic, a charm, a talisman for safekeeping.

She’ll only let you know a small part of her,

she’s a universe full of secrets.

Her soul breathed mystery & intrigue,

She was her own kind of magic.